


When the House of Cards

by thepilot



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Bassian, Bodhi as a waiter, Bodhi as an MC, Cassian in disguise, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Pre-Rogue One, all of you, casino - Freeform, dark hearts, rook mc, sexy bodhi mc, sniperpilot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 05:05:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11502354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepilot/pseuds/thepilot
Summary: Set 5 Years before Rogue One, undercover Cassian meets Bodhi on the casino planet Canto Bight. Bodhi is working as a waiter and hired entertainment, spitting rhymes in the face of the galaxy's aristocracy. Inspired by Riz's guest starring role as Paul-Louis on Girls as well as Riz's song Dark Hearts.





	When the House of Cards

_“Well, if you ask me, I think your disguise is unnecessary and unconvincing.”_

Kaytoo’s words still rang through Cassian’s head as he navigated the crowded casino floor. Aristocrats from across the galaxy donned their most extravagant attire as they gambled and drank, laughed and gossiped. These were the wealthy elite, people so caught up in themselves that they were beyond the war, beyond the struggle, beyond the pain. It took every fiber of Cassian’s being not to open gunfire. He smiled to himself when he thought of how many he could pick off before being caught. Cassian was careful to size up every glance he met, and they were quick to do the same to him. Their intentions were vastly different, however: Cassian was looking at potential threats and Imperial sympathizers, they were evaluating Cassian’s clothes and mannerisms, trying to decipher whether or not he was truly wealthy.

_“Well, if you ask me, I think your disguise is unnecessary and unconvincing.”_

_“Kay, we’ve been through this. I can’t walk around in my Rebel standards. I think it would be more than a dead giveaway that I’m not there to make friends.”_

_“You could have at least left your hair alone. It looks silly.”_

As Cassian played out their conversation again, he ran his fingers through his wig. It was blonde, longer and wavier than his normal hair, and swept to the side. Cassian paid a lot of credits to make sure it was realistic, Kay just wasn’t used to it, something he had to keep reminding himself. He’d even shaved to make sure his stubble wasn’t a giveaway that he was wearing a wig. He wore a pair of thick shaded glasses on his face, which kept slipping off his nose until he remembered they were there, pushing them back up. Since Cassian knew this assignment wasn’t coming up for some time, he’d managed to piece together different bits of his formal attire from different missions, an eclectic mix of fashions from different planets. For someone who didn’t care about his appearance, though, he thought he’d cleaned himself up well. His black waistcoat, tailcoat and black brocade trousers were in stark contrast to the shockingly white button front shirt with daringly high collar.

A young man, seemingly around the same age as Cassian, bobbed and darted through the crowd, offering drinks balanced precariously on his arm. Cassian stopped to watch him: he was striking, his short cropped black hair and mustache graced his dark skin tone, and his waiter’s clothes concealed a slim frame. Cassian could tell he didn’t belong. When the waiter finally made his way to Cassian, Cassian felt his pulse race just a bit quicker.

“Drink, sir?” the waiter asked.

“Why are you here,” Cassian asked bluntly, taking a tall glass from the silver tray.

“I…what?” he blinked several times, his long lashes darting up and down his brown eyes as big as planets.

“The other waiters, they’re all trying to socialize with the patrons. You’re not. Why are you here?” Cassian asked again.

“Well, it’s my mum. She’s not doing so well, and I’m trying to take care of her. We live, she and I, on Jedha, and I heard they were looking for musicians to play Canto Bight, so I applied and they hired me. I…I guess I didn’t realize I had to work here, too. That’s why I was the only one who applied,” he said, looking off, almost ashamed. That was the first Cassian had noticed the raised stage in the back of the massive casino floor.

“But you can play cards. You’re watching everyone play, and you know exactly what mistakes they’re making.”

The waiter blinked several times. “Well, I guess, but I’m not here to play cards, sir.”

“You can count cards, can’t you? But you’ve been caught before.”

“I…how do you know all this? Oh Force, you’re not after me, are you? I swear, I’m not doing anything wrong! Please, I can’t leave my mum alone,” the waiter panicked, tears starting to well up in his eyes. Cassian didn’t know he’d have this effect on the man, but he learned almost everything he needed to: he was from Jedha. He was very skilled at cards and had probably been arrested for gambling because sabaac was outlawed in Jedha city. He was fiercely passionate, and would do anything for his mother. He was also certainly not used to having attention paid to him. But what Cassian had really been testing him on, was his balance, as he had managed to keep every single glass in perfect position, barely moving the liquid contents even when he’d been flustered.

“No, I’m not after you,” Cassian said, a gentle smile on his lips as it turned into a dubious grin. “At least not like that,” he said, taking a sip of his drink.

The waiter gulped. “Well, it’s almost time for me to start my set, so I should, I should go…” he said, making his way through the crowd once more.

Cassian watched the waiter weave his way in and out once more, not spilling a single drop from his glasses. He’d make a good pilot and even better recruit. Cassian downed his drink and set it on a table, observing more of the patrons. It made his stomach sick to think of the money each person carried about them, how the lavishly threw it away only to have it replaced with more. There was a war going on, and these people were oblivious. A few sly eyes glanced at Cassian, and he observed them through his dark lenses. _No, they looked at my shoes and realized they weren’t designer. No, they looked at my neck pin and realized it was inexpensive._ If there were Imperial sympathizers here, Cassian hadn’t found them yet.

The dull background music cut out, and a very timid waiter made his way to the mixing table. The music started again, a deep bass beat mixed with the waiter checking his mic. He started spitting his words in rhythm, and Cassian was sure he hadn’t intended for them to be heard.

_We know you’re fake, but we still roll anyway_

_It keeps me on my toes_

_And gives me jobs_

_Let’s play this game_

Cassian darted anxious eyes across the room, but not a single person seemed to be listening. If anything, this was just another song to them. The waiter continued, speaking so fast it was hard to catch his words.

_We’re talking but you’re looking through me_

_For someone important to schmooze with_

He was freestyling! Freestyling about what this was like for him, being here in the casino. Cassian moved in a trance closer to the stage, feeling the words pulse through him, radiating from the speakers.

_Wait up_

_Even with actual mates interaction is fake_

_Like, “hey bruv”_

_You automatically change how you talk when I’m in your range_

_“Hey bruv!” I heard those whispers and hisses_

_Spittles all over my back_

_Paid enough raise and not just for drinks_

_Trust is like an ice rink_

Cassian stood motionlessly as he watched the waiter get more involved with the song, opening the neck of his waiter’s uniform, his brow bedewed with sweat.

_Got to tick the time away_

_Why not try a type of game?_

_Lock your eyes on mine and gaze_

Cassian stood at the edge of the stage, and the waiter looked down at him, continuing in confidence as Cassian smiled up at him. It may have been the bass pulsing out of the speakers, but the waiter’s lyrics were beating in Cassian like a second heart. The waiter was going hard, spitting his words and rhymes like a beaded necklace, and not a single person was moved. Except for Cassian.

_Dark hearts_

_But we keep it pumping like the dark hearts_

_Don't love or trust none of their dark hearts_

_We're double-bluffing with our dark hearts_

The song finished, but smoothly morphed into another. The waiter had removed his jacket and untucked his shirt, opening the shirt button by button as he danced through his words. He knew he had one audience member, and was clearly performing for his one and only fan. Or at least that’s what Cassian was hoping. This song was faster paced, and the waiter articulated his words his free hand when they weren’t both on the mix table. Cassian watched his long slender fingers work magic on buttons and switches.

_People like people that don’t talk much But sometimes put one eyebrow up Sat back, smoking, potent, not fussed When they talk, it’s rushed, they’re rough, and you’re hushed_

No one cared. The waiter continued unabashedly with his freestyle, speaking his mind. His set continued on for an hour. Cassian was eating up every word like a starving thief, only moving every now and then to look behind him. He thought the waiter was performing for him and only him, and Cassian had lost all abandon. This was the truth, and it flowed out of smooth lips through a cold microphone, bleeding through the speakers and radiating through Cassian’s entire being.

The set continued for more than an hour, and by the time the waiter had reached his last song, Cassian hadn’t decided if he wanted it to continue forever, or if he’d die from not being able to kiss the lips he’d been watching so intently or touch the sweat slicked body that snaked to the rhythm. Cassian could tell his voice was starting to get just a bit rough from how hard he had been going for so long, but he knew the waiter was teasing him now as he looked at Cassian with a sly eye and crooked smile.

_Cause it's not love, it's a war for you Let me be more for you, just give me all of you_

He was teasing Cassian now, he knew it. Cassian was about to explode. The song painted a cruel picture of an ex-lover, but it didn’t stop Cassian from wanting to be the next.

_Because all of my smiles just come out sad Flashbacks of your soft thighs drive me mad Wise words that you wore like a secret badge And the times we had were just lies you spat But I don't really feel deeply at all for you I know it's sad, isn't it, but it's the awful truth_

His vocals finished out with a chorus of:

_You can't have all of me But give me all of you I wanna walk tall knowing that I'm owning you Check check, kick about, one two, one two Give it up, get it out, say I got you_

The waiter finished, flicked back on the generic background music, nodded to Cassian, and left the stage. Cassian scanned for the entrance to the stage, not wanting his MC to escape. He noticed an air lock door with keypad to the left of the stage and he fought against his legs that wanted to run. The door wasn’t motion activated: there was a keypad. Cassian panicked, his mind on his physical needs and neglecting logical thought. He was about to try punching in random numbers when the door slid open, the waiter standing on the other side, dripping with sweat with a towel draped over his naked shoulders. He held out a hand and pulled Cassian through the door, and Cassian stumbled into his arms. The corridor around the stage was empty, and they lost themselves in each other, clever hands making clever work and curious tongues exploring new territory.

Cassian wasn’t sure how long they had been together, but it seemed like an eternity and the blink of an eye all at once. They had moved to an empty dressing room which had fallen into a makeshift storage space. Clothes lay scattered on extra chairs and tables, and performer and audience member lay tangled on a discarded couch they’d removed piled up boxes from. Cassian pet the waiter’s hair as he felt his chest move steady and even against him.

“You should grow out your hair,” Cassian mused.

“Oh?” the waiter/MC responded sleepily.

“More to grab onto.” They both grinned.

“I'll grow it out then. And you shouldn’t wear a wig. Shame you won’t let me see your real hair…” the waiter/MC said, petting Cassian’s hair in return.

“Next time,” Cassian responded.

“Next time. You really only here for tonight? I can’t persuade you to stay with me through my entire contract? You know it’s a month long…”

Cassian sighed. “No, and I really shouldn’t have let myself get this carried away. I wasn’t here for pleasure. No offense.” he quickly added. “But we’ll meet again. Someday.”

The waiter/MC nuzzled his head against Cassian’s chest.

“I hope so. You know, we never did tell each other our names. I’m Bodhi. Bodhi Rook.”

“I’m Cairn Andsoas. It’s nice to meet you, Bodhi.”


End file.
